Heat
by Danny Phantom SG-1
Summary: Trapped in a room that gets hotter and hotter, Danny must make a life and death decision...both for himself and for his best friends. Some DxS, post-PP.
1. Who

**A/N: Not much to say except that this is a chapter fic, so expect some explanations for this chapter in the future. Haven't done one of these in awhile, so forgive me for being out of practice. Italics are flashbacks, and the rest is present time. Enjoy!**

* * *

_Heat_

_Chapter One: Who_

The heat pulsed through the room like a ghost taking control of a body, drowning the teens in its crushing grasp. Danny wondered briefly how this confounded contraption was even possible…and, worse, kept regressing back to thoughts of how they'd been sucked in there in the first place.

_It was all my fault, _he thought heavily, shutting his eyes to try to push away the inklings of guilt.

He lifted his head and half-opened his dreary eyes to take in the sight of his helpless best friends. He sighed in relief to see they were both still asleep, however uncomfortably. The heat was getting to be so intense that he wasn't sure how much longer he could breathe through the thick air.

It was times like this that he hated being conscious.

But, taking a deep breath, he continued to struggle through his self-imposed duty. He blew gently toward the overheated bodies of Sam and Tucker, allowing the chill of his icy breath to caress them into a cool comfort. It was so hot by this point, though, that neither shivered as the ice hit them anymore; but he could tell it was still helping to quench their desire for a breeze every once in awhile.

_It's gonna have to start being once in a very little while soon,_ he mused, feeling a sweat drop roll down his back as he gasped for breath in the heat. He glanced at his friends, not allowing his eyes to linger on Sam too long, despite their dating status. He turned from them and leaned his back against the wall, slowly letting himself slide down to a sitting position. He tossed his head back and closed his eyes for just a moment, knowing sleep was not an option for him, and this time allowed his regretful memories to overtake his mind.

* * *

"_Oh my God, Tucker, are you seriously going to fiddle with that stupid PDA all afternoon?" Sam shifted her gaze from Danny to Tucker, unable to take any more of the beeps emitting from her best friend's favorite electronic device during lunch. _

_Tucker glowered at the screen of his PDA, unwilling to take his eyes off of his love long enough to grant a glare to Sam. "What? You guys go on dates without me all the time now. Just pretend I'm not here. It can't be that hard," he quipped sourly._

_Danny felt a pang of guilt at the jab but bit it back quickly. "Aw, c'mon, Tuck. Don't be so bitter. So we're dating now; that doesn't mean I don't still want to hang out with my best friend! Nothing has changed except that me and Sam are, like…" he blushed as he always did, "officially a couple now. So what? We were practically together before—you can still be yourself and tease us and jabber on about techno-geek stuff! Tell us what's up with your PDA."_

_Tucker finally looked away from the screen long enough to see Danny's sincerity. He sighed. Despite suddenly feeling like a third wheel lately and wanting to drown in self-pity, he could never stay mad at his friend; Danny still made every effort to include him whenever possible, and he guessed he couldn't be expected to join them on every date. He shrugged and held up the glitchy screen of his beloved machine._

"_She's on the fritz. I don't know why she's acting so wonky…I was thinking it might be Technus again, but then I figured you'd have seen your ghost sense," Tucker explained, handing the PDA to Danny when his friend motioned for it._

"_Hmm. Well, it's definitely not Technus."_

"_Must be a dead battery then," Tucker grumbled, putting his cheek in his hand angrily. _

_Danny and Sam shot each other a knowing glance (to Tucker's annoyance), and Danny laughed._

"_What?" Tucker asked, irritated._

"_Watch," Danny said simply as he put his hand on the battery compartment of Tucker's PDA. He allowed his hand to glow, and Tucker watched in mild horror as a green light encompassed his dearest possession. The deed was soon finished, though, and with little effort on Danny's part. He handed the device back to Tucker and watched in amusement as Tucker began to click away with his now perfectly-charged PDA._

"_Whoa, dude, how the heck did you do that?" he asked, turning it over in his hands to look for some secret and forgetting about his earlier antagonism._

_Danny shrugged. "I have no clue. Last night when Sam and I were watching a movie at my house," Tucker shot them a suspicious look, "when my parents and sister were all home and in the room right next door, her cell phone died; and when I touched it, I just…I don't know, sort of felt like I could fix it, so I did."_

_Tucker shook his head, trying to keep the images of his best friends in intimate situations from encroaching on his mind. It was still weird for him, but he guessed he was starting to get used to it. _

"_But that makes no sense. How do ghost powers generate…battery powers?"_

_A confused smile plastered itself on Danny's face and he lifted his eyebrows. "Well, you know me. I never did pay attention to the rules of science."_

_Tucker smiled at him and rolled his eyes. This was too true. He opened his mouth to say thanks, but was cut off when Danny's ghost sense suddenly DID go off._

"_Whoa," Danny said as he belched out a puff of cold air. "Maybe Technus _is _in there."_

_But, just as he said it, the trio heard a screech outside the Nasty Burger, and all of their heads turned as they instinctively grabbed for their weapons and Fenton Thermoses. The blur of a mechanical suit flashed by the window._

"_Skulker," all three chorused, getting up quickly from the table and running against the flow of people scurrying away from the ghost. Amid the confusion, Danny went ghost under the cover of an overturned Nasty Burger table and blasted off to fight the hunter._

"_Hey, Skulker!" he said casually. "Here to catch me and put my pelt in your room again?"_

_Predictably, the ghost turned and flashed an evil grin at Danny, to which the ghost boy merely rolled his eyes. _

"_Ah, ghost child, you know my plan well…but how I shall execute it is the mystery."_

"_Yeah, yeah, whatever," Danny yawned. "The only mystery here is why you could possibly want someone's pelt in your room. Ew, dude."_

"_You may quip all you want now, whelp, but mark my words, I'll get what I want—and maybe even a few bonus prizes as well," he said furtively. "But, for now, ghost child: catch me if you can!"_

_With a glint in his metal eyes, Skulker chortled and flew off toward FentonWorks, leaving Danny just a little clueless and confused in his wake._

"_Danny," Sam called up to him, "where's he going?"_

_Danny looked down at her and shrugged. "Probably back to the portal. I don't think we'll need to chase him and stick him in the Thermos this time, though. He seems to just be delusional today."_

"_Maybe," Tucker chimed, "but isn't your sister at home?"_

_Suddenly, a gut feeling of imminent doom struck Danny, and he instantly flew in pursuit of Skulker, hoping his friends would get the message and follow. _

I should have known; idiot! _He berated himself. _

_Bonus prize? Flying off to the portal without a fight? God, he wondered how he got to be so dumb sometimes. He flew faster to get home before Skulker could to anything to Jazz; he'd sworn he'd never let anything happen to the ones he loved. _

_He had to save his sister._

_

* * *

_

_She screamed. _

So much for making myself a sandwich, _she thought as Skulker's form flew past her, leaving her with a cold feeling in the pit of her stomach. _

_She breathed heavily from the terror and surprise, leaning on the kitchen counter for support as she watched the hunter ghost speed down the stairs to the basement. She closed her eyes to regain her composure and reached across the counter to a reserve Thermos (there was now one in every room of the house, just in case), getting ready to face the ghostly villain. _

_But, just when she was ready to fight, she screamed again as another burst of cold air brushed past her. She looked toward it and felt a huge surge of relief when she saw the familiar blur of black and white. She smiled at her little brother as he flew down to the lab to confront Skulker, and she was again about to follow suit when she was distracted for the third time._

_The doorbell rang. _

_She sighed, gritting her teeth in annoyance as she rushed to answer the door. But when she saw Sam and Tucker, out of breath and determined, she hurled the door open wildly and ushered them hurriedly inside._

"_Danny's already downstairs," she said. "What's going on with Skulker?"_

_Sam, able to catch her breath more quickly than Tucker, answered briefly, "Don't know. Said something about Danny's pelt and a bonus prize or whatever, then he flew back here. Danny was worried Skulker was going to attack you."_

_Jazz felt a mixture of love and worry course through her. "We should go help him."_

_The three started running but stopped short when they heard a hard smack and a scream from the scuffle downstairs. They all shared nervous looks before heading down to the lab, but they only got halfway there before running into a frantic-looking Danny._

"_Danny!" Jazz yelped, rushing forward to embrace her protective little brother, tears jumping into her overly-sensitive eyes at the thought of him risking his life to save hers._

"_Hey, Jazz," he said, taken aback. "I, uh…you can let go now."_

"_Right, sorry," she muttered, backing up and giving him his space._

_Danny smiled at her nonetheless, glad to see her safe and not in the clutches of Skulker. But then he remembered why he'd come running back to them. He turned to Sam and Tucker, his eyebrows lowered and his voice booming and determined._

"_Skulker stole some of my dad's stuff. I think we should go in after him. I don't know what he's up to, but the last time he started stealing stuff, we had to deal with a super-suit, so whatever it is can't be good," he elaborated._

_All three of his cohorts nodded their heads gravely. "Then let's go," they chimed, almost in sync._

_Danny looked over the three of them hesitantly. He knew he could count on Sam and Tucker time and time again, and, much as he knew his sister meant well, she wasn't exactly his optimum choice in help. Plus, someone needed to stay behind and distract his parents. Jazz had become an expert liar over the years, using psychological jargon and sheer brilliance to keep secrets, even from him. Now that his parents knew about his ghost half, it was harder to keep it from them when he went places he wasn't allowed to go—say the Ghost Zone, for instance. It wasn't for fear that they would come and destroy him that he kept these secrets anymore; it was for fear they would try to _help _which generally made matters worse for Danny's ghost-hunting. _

_He finally shook his head, shifting from his wandering thoughts, and looked to Jazz apologetically. "Sorry, Jazz, but I need you to stay and cover for us. Ya know…just in case," he winked._

_Jazz frowned on the inside but tried to maintain a smile for appearances. She was always the one left stuck behind and worrying. But she supposed Danny was still counting on her in a way, so she had to settle with being the _reserve_ member of his team. Again._

_She stood at the bottom of the steps and watched as Sam and Tucker climb into the Specter Speeder, Danny on the outside to guide their way through the Ghost Zone to what she assumed would be Skulker's lair. He made sure his best friends got in all right, then turned to his watery-eyed sister, his resolute eyes softening for a moment as he hovered over to her. _

"_Jazz, we'll be fine. You don't have to get so emotional every time I go into the Ghost Zone, you know. Chances are this is all just a routine thing," he comforted, smiling at her._

_She looked at him and rubbed her arm subconsciously. "I know. I just can't help but feel nervous for you whenever you leave. And I've got a bad feeling about this one."_

_He frowned at her. "Don't. We'll be fine. Now, when Mom and Dad ask where we are…well, you know what to say, right? We should be done in a few hours. Maybe less."_

"_And if you're not back by then?" she asked anxiously._

_His frown deepened. "We will be, all right? Don't worry. We'll be back. If you have ghost trouble or something, just…call Valerie. She'll help you. And make sure Mom and Dad don't help. You know how crazy things can get when they try. It's _almost_ as bad as when _you_ first started helping."_

_He winked at her, and she punched him in the arm as they both smiled and he laughed. He gave her an unexpected kiss on the head goodbye, and she watched as he and his friends traversed through that complex world that she hated. She still had a terrible feeling about this whole situation, but she supposed it was similar to the routine missions they had almost every day. And they did say they would be back in a few hours. If not…_

_She heard the door slam and knew her parents were home. She sighed. _

_Time to pretend like nothing was wrong._

* * *

Danny opened his eyes in the burning room and looked down at his watch. It had now been about an hour and a half since their pivotal departure. He hoped Jazz would soon act on her gut feeling that something would go wrong. He silently cursed himself for having brought the Specter Speeder—what would she use now? How much help would Valerie be in this situation?

He should have listened to Jazz in the first place. They all should have stayed behind. He should have protected them.

But he didn't.

He groaned at the heat and his negative thoughts as he rolled his head to check on his sleeping comrades. _Don't worry; I won't let anything happen to you guys. I promise,_ he thought as he fought to summon up enough icy energy inside of him to create a gust of wind.

He succeeded, in fact a little too well, and he felt the effects immediately inside of him, as if someone had thrown a burning piece of coal into his stomach. He grabbed his abdomen and checked on his friends, knowing the blast had been more powerful than he intended. But it didn't matter. They were still sleeping with crinkled brows, groaning at the discomfort of the heat surrounding them, and Danny let his head droop down to his chest. At least they were all right for now. But he didn't know how much longer he could keep this up.

He suddenly wished he had been more specific with his instructions to Jazz on what to do if they didn't come back. Because he had a feeling, a horrible gut feeling, that he wasn't going to be able to get them out of here.

* * *

**So, is it burnin' up, or should it be burned? Are you confused yet? How much improvement does my writing need? I've just recently gotten back into it, so I know I'm rusty; I need all the constructive criticism I can get. Please review and let me know what I need to work on so the next chapter can be even better. The story is all outlined, so don't worry too much about it being finished. It'll all be done soon enough. Reviews are certainly most welcome. And loved.**


	2. What

**A/N: This seemed a little jumpy to me at the first draft, so I tried to fix it...still not thrilled, but it'll have to do. Also, some feedback would be TREMENDOUSLY appreciated. Thanks, and enjoy.**

* * *

_Heat_

_Chapter Two: What_

A soft whimper first alerted him from his dazed stage.

_Ugh, did I fall asleep?_ He wondered. _Wait…_

That wasn't good.

If he had fallen asleep, then no one would have been there to help—

His eyes flew open despite his lethargy, and he turned rapidly to Sam and Tucker. He watched intently for a moment, blowing a cool breeze toward them simultaneously, and only allowed himself to breathe once he noticed they were doing so as well. Then he sighed, leaning back against the wall again and moaning at the bubble of heat growing inside of him.

"Da—Danny?" a strangled, choked cry emitted from the middle of the room, and Danny's eyes, full of worry, glanced up to see who had called for him.

Sam was tossing and turning, grunting with every move, and he noticed tears were flowing down her face. She finally stopped moving, sprawled out on her back, and she continued to sob helplessly as Danny floated over to her.

"Hey," he whispered lightly, putting a cool hand on her forehead. "Hey, Sam. It's okay. It was just a bad dream."

She shook her head wildly. "No it wasn't! We're still _here._ In the place where it's too hot."

He gave a dry gulp of guilt and grimaced. "Yeah, it is. But it'll be okay, Sam. I promise."

She opened her eyes enough to look up at him. She could see the sadness and remorse in his eyes, and she wanted to reach out and tear those emotions out of him. Despite her worrisome complaints, she knew, deep down, that things would eventually turn out all right. Because they were with Danny.

And Danny always kept his promises.

And though she wanted to console him, she could only manage one more word out of her dry mouth.

"Water?"

He nodded profusely and put his hands together, beckoning a snowball to form. She thought she noticed a sweat drop of concentration roll down the side of his face—something that was out of place for Danny—but she didn't dwell on it as the snowball soon began to melt , and she felt her body ache for its cooling comfort.

She managed to prop herself up on her elbows, meaning to sit up to take a drink, but Danny had his hands in front of her mouth before she could exert that much energy. Instead, she allowed him to pour the icy water down her throat, and she immediately felt the effects of the chilly liquid as it coursed into the pit of her stomach.

The wrinkles of discomfort on her forehead disappeared, and Danny noticed that she was becoming more relaxed with the water in her system.

With a fire burning in his own stomach, he was glad to see that his ice powers were benefitting one of them, at least.

When she was done, she leaned back down on the floor and sighed. "Ah, the benefits of having a boyfriend with ghost powers."

He laughed a little. "Although, technically, my ghost powers are what got us into this mess in the first place," he mumbled.

She looked at him sternly. "Don't do that, Danny. Quit beating yourself up for something you know wasn't your fault. It was Skulker. You couldn't have known it was a trap."

"I should have," he countered regretfully.

She rolled her eyes, then looked directly into his. "Tucker and I don't blame you, so you shouldn't blame yourself. Not to mention, if you're at fault, then the both of us are just as likely to have been the cause of this--we were all there. Besides, Jazz will know something's wrong, and help will come eventually. It's not the end of the world."

For some reason, the growing sense of doom and heat in his stomach was telling him otherwise, but he nodded at her anyway, biting back tears of worry.

"You should go back to sleep," he instructed her, his voice breaking slightly in the middle. "It'll get your mind off the heat."

"And what about you?" she asked worriedly.

He gave her a smile that he hoped was reassuring. "I'll be fine. I have ice powers, remember?"

_Too bad they're diminishing every time I use them in here,_ he thought silently, willing the truth not to show in his eyes.

She continued to eye him warily, but the combination of the satisfaction brought by the water and the heat that was suddenly engulfing her again made her drowsy. She lolled her head to the side and allowed sleep to overtake her, leaving Danny alone with nothing but his memories once again.

* * *

"_Danny, would you slow down?" Sam asked irritably. "Skulker's lair isn't gonna go running off while we're not there."_

"_No, but _he_ might," Danny countered._

_They'd been traversing the Ghost Zone for about half an hour, and Danny knew they were getting close. He hadn't made a habit out of visiting Skulker's place of residence, but he knew where it was—they'd been there several times over the years, plotting out the Ghost Zone, seeking information, and being captured by the evil miscreant. Usually, it took Danny over forty-five minutes to get there, but something inside of him propelled him forward this time; thoughts of Skulker building a weapon worried him, and he had to make sure he stopped the ghost quickly. He didn't want a repeat of Skulker's last bout of kleptomania._

"_We're here," Danny said sternly, carefully touching down onto the "ground" that surrounded Skulker's keep. He was expecting a booby trap, but nothing attacked him. Suspicious, he pressed on, waving his arm to motion Sam and Tucker forward in the Specter Speeder._

"_It's sort of quiet," Tucker observed. "Toooo quiet."_

_Danny shot him a glare which caused the techno geek to throw his hands up and give a sheepish grin. _

"_I've always wanted to say that," he mumbled._

_Just as Danny was about to give a smart retort, his ghost sense burst from between his teeth, and he looked to the cave that stood a few feet away. He glanced at Sam and Tucker, and they knew it was time for action. Hearts pounding, as fighting ghosts never seemed to lose its sense of fear, they parked the Specter Speeder and hopped out, weapons at the ready, and Danny led the way to the cave, stealthily avoiding rustling the "ghost plants" that surrounded them._

_Firing one final glance at Tucker, Danny drifted around to the entrance of the cave and stood with his hands outstretched, ready to fire an ectoblast if necessary. Following immediately after, Sam and Tucker stood on either side of Danny with their weapons raised._

"_Now, Skulker, I thought you were supposed to be the Ghost Zone's greatest _hunter,_ not thief. This is just sad," Danny commented, hands still raised and ready to react._

_The armored ghost turned to face Danny, that familiar glint that sent shivers down Danny's spine still present in his gaze. _

"_But when the thieving results in a successful hunt, I let those minor details pass," Skulker said shiftily._

_Danny was about to question him when a thunderous clank caused him to turn around; the entrance to the cave had been closed off by a blue shield. Danny watched in confusion and fear as the shield quickly extended across part of the cave, trapping the teens and the hunter inside of its confines. Danny growled at Skulker, turning to fire on him._

"_Not your best move, Skulker. Notice you're locked inside of your little shield with us," Danny pointed out, shooting a powerful blast at the hunter. "Not too good at thinking ahead, are you?"_

_Skulker simply smiled, however, and merely pressed a button on his suit as Danny's blast hit him square in the chest. The far end of the blue shield dissipated for just a moment, enough time for Skulker to pass out of the "room" and into the cave wall. As soon as he was outside, though, the shield regenerated itself, leaving a baffled Danny and his friends stranded within._

_Skulker laughed. "I can't believe it's been this easy all along. I should have thought of this sooner."_

_Danny stared at him, his eyes swimming with bewilderment. "But I don't understand. You stole our stuff…you were making a weapon—"_

"_Not a weapon: a trap," Skulker clarified. "You really aren't that bright, are you? Good thing you didn't bring your sister—she might have figured it out."_

_The metal monstrosity walked around the container to the end where Danny and his friends remained, shocked and beginning to fill with horrid realization._

"_Luckily, these two are a little less observant…and also slightly more valuable prizes," Skulker mused._

_Danny snarled at him, "It's me you want, not them. At least let them go."_

"_Can't," Skulker continued lightly. "I've rigged the machine I stole from your lab to maintain this shield unless I press this button right here," he said, motioning to his chest. "And if I press it, _you_ will escape. I've seen you do this before—don't think you're the only one who has grown with your ghost-fighting experiences…although, after this mishap, how much _you've _learned over time is clearly in question."_

_Danny rolled his fingers into a fist, but maintained a cool demeanor. "And you think you can just lock us up in here, and that's it? You don't think anyone will come for us? I rest my case that you really don't think ahead, Skulker. Too much metal weighing your brain down."_

_But Skulker's confident smile made Danny's falter._

"_Oh, I expect reinforcements to show up…eventually. But by the time they get here, I will be gone somewhere in the Ghost Zone, out of the way of their harm, and you three…will be dead."_

_Sam and Tucker exchanged nervous glances, but Danny continued his incredulous antagonism._

"_WHAT? You think just having us sit in this dumb shield will kill us in a couple of hours? Man, you are dumber than I was giving you credit for."_

_Skulker merely shook his head. "The shield is a technology I stole from our mutual friend Vlad Plasmius. Remember the shield that worked on ghosts _and _humans? Well, become reacquainted. And, with the help of a few of the gadgets I stole from your own home, this bubble will become continuously and increasingly hotter as time goes on. That way, when I return to reclaim you—my rightful prize—and your friends, your pelts will already be drained of much of your fluids. It'll save me some time._

"_Not to mention it probably won't be a very comfortable death," he added, relishing the moment as the look of determination and defiance on the ghost boy's face slowly fell, and it dawned on his prey that perhaps Skulker _had _thought ahead--a little too well._

_With a conniving laugh, Skulker flew away from his lair, leaving the ghost child and his accomplices shaken and afraid, completely sure that his plan had _finally_ worked. The prize he has coveted for years would, at last, belong to him. _

_All he'd ever had to do was get Danny's loved ones involved. Their deaths would merely be by-products of the whole affair…and, to be honest, he was rather looking forward to having the three key members of Team Phantom lying on his floor as constant reminders of his victory as the greatest hunter the Ghost Zone—no, the entire universe—had ever known. __He'd forever be known as the ghost that captured Phantom and his friends. And he would be revered forever—a feat he had aspired to for eons, ever since his death._

_As Skulker thought through his hopeful future, however, Danny put a hand to his forehead, and despite Sam and Tucker's calls of worry, he heard nothing but his own fearful thoughts flowing through his mind._

There is no way out,_ his thoughts screamed to him. _A human/ghost shield? That gets exponentially warmer?

We are stuck.

And if no one comes to help soon…

We are dead.

* * *

Jazz got up from the dinner table exceptionally earlier than usual. She wasn't sure her stomach could handle food while her fear for Danny was gnawing away at her. She'd already had to lie to her parents—claiming Danny was at Tucker's house for dinner that night.

And when both the Foley's and the Manson's called the Fenton's wondering where their children were, Jazz had once again—with the practice of years of lying—smoothly told them Tucker and Sam were at her house.

So none of the parents knew that their children could be in mortal danger.

_No,_ Jazz corrected herself. _They're fine. Just fighting Skulker. It's only been two hours or so…I need to give them another hour, or Danny will have my head for interfering and worrying too much. I need to trust them._

_Unless they really are in trouble. In which case, acting now would be the best course. _

Taking a deep breath, Jazz reverted to her psychological background and weighed the pros and cons of getting involved now. After a moment, she conceded to herself that it was better to be safe than sorry, and she was prepared to accept the consequences for her actions. If Danny got angry with her for overreacting, she could deal with that.

At any rate, she could deal with that better than she could deal with a dead little brother.

_STOP THAT!_ She commanded her thoughts.

Now, she just needed an excuse to give her parents…hanging out with friends was not an option, as her friends were either nonexistent, online, or Danny's friends. Not to mention, she would also need some sort of transportation through the Ghost Zone—

Her thought process was cut short by the doorbell. She sighed as it slashed through her plans, hoping desperately that it wouldn't be the parents of either Tucker or Sam...then she would have some rather serious lying to do. She decided to play with story scenarios in her mind as she cautiously approached her front door.

When she opened it, she was initially surprised. But then a smile found its way onto her face as a realization hit her.

_Well, this could make things slightly easier._

* * *

**And thus I leave you with a sort-of cliffhanger...though it's not that much of a surprise. Oh, well. Hoping to get the next chapter up soon-ish. And don't worry about the character names I've listed for this story--Clocky will be here eventually.**

**Oh, and please review. Good or bad, I need the feedback to help me write more fluidly and frequently. Reviews give me LIFE. **


	3. Where

**A/N: Sorry this took a bit longer, but this was the chapter I had the most problems with in the preliminary stage, so hopefully, I've cleared up my various plot holes well enough to have this make sense and still be engaging. Please let me know how I'm doing with this; thanks! **

* * *

_Heat_

_Chapter Three: Where_

Jazz's smile widened as she looked at the person who had just conveniently rung her doorbell. Maybe, she thought, her situation had just gotten that much better.

"Valerie?" she asked, prompting the girl outside to widen her eyes in shock at the increasingly happy expression on Jazz's face.

"Um…yeah," Valerie answered slowly, still wary of Jazz's pleased smile. "Is, uh…Danny here? Or Sam or Tucker or…any of them?"

Jazz's mind, however, was racing wildly, and she had no time to answer questions, so she merely grabbed a slightly terrified Valerie by the wrist and ushered her inside, giving the poor girl not a hint of her intentions except to say, "I've got a problem, and I need your help."

Jazz pulled Valerie all the way to the basement, where the latter finally broke free from the former's grip and gave a miffed grunt.

"JAZZ!" she yelled. "What the heck are you doing?"

Jazz was still in her own little world as she seemed to be searching for something in the basement, only giving Valerie a passing glance as she quickly summarized the predicament.

"Danny, Sam and Tucker went into the Ghost Zone after Skulker awhile ago. They said they'd be back in a little bit, and I didn't want to jump into things, but I have a sneaking suspicion they might be in trouble," Jazz explained.

Suddenly, Valerie's look of anger turned to one of realization and worry.

"I think you might be right," she said warily, causing Jazz to turn to look at the girl as she continued. "Danny, Sam, Tucker and I were supposed to hang out after dinner. I got worried when they didn't show up at the movies, so I came here."

Jazz frowned at her, eyes growing wider with fear. "That's definitely not good. If they had plans, they would have been sure to come back…"

She stopped. No need to get her mind all wrapped up in paranoid delusions again. She shook her head.

"Well, we've gotta figure out some way to help them if they are in trouble," she finished.

Valerie nodded gravely. "Skulker, right? I remember him. Phantom and I—" she paused, remembering who she was really talking about. "—I mean, Danny and I once got caught by him. He can be…pretty bad when he wants to be. I mean, if he hurt them or something…well, it can't be good."

Jazz wanted to block out the ramblings of the other girl so she could concentrate on her task and quit thinking about all the terrible things that could be happening to her little brother and his friends at that very moment.

"How long _have_ they been gone?" Valerie asked worriedly.

Jazz sighed. "About two and a half hours, roughly."

Valerie grimaced. "You're right; I don't think it should take _that_ long."

"Especially if they had plans," Jazz mumbled nervously. "I mean, sometimes they take longer—you know, they take detours and check up on other ghosts and whatnot, but…if they were supposed to be back by now to meet up with you…ugh, I have to stop _thinking _about it!"

She again shook her head vigorously, wiping the frightening images and thoughts from her mind and instead turned to Valerie.

"They took the Specter Speeder. Do you have any way we could get through the Ghost Zone?" Jazz asked, knowing the answer.

Sure enough, Valerie gave a confident smile and unleashed her jet sled. "Not a problem. Do you have the directions to get there?"

Jazz yelped in delight as she found was she was looking for. "I've got better than directions," she said. "I've got the boooomerang."

Valerie looked puzzled, so Jazz explained as she turned the device on. "It's a tracking device, basically; it hones in on Danny's ectosignature, so we can find him wherever he is."

Valerie nodded slowly, unbelieving that she had just gotten herself into this ridiculous mess in a matter of just a few minutes, and watched as Jazz threw the boooomerang into the Ghost Zone—

—and as the device flew right back to her, thudding to the ground.

"Um…out of curiosity, does it usually come back?" Valerie inquired, staring at the boomerang on the floor.

Jazz shuddered in fear. "This boomerang doesn't."

Valerie shrugged. "Eh, so it's broken. They've got to have a map of the Ghost Zone around here somewhere; I remember Danny telling me about it one time. We'll just have to rough it the old fashioned way, and—"

She stopped talking, cut off by the eerie silence and stillness of the person she was talking to. When Jazz finally moved her head to look into Valerie's eyes, the younger girl became nervous at the amount of fear pervading Jazz's expression.

"No, Valerie. You don't understand," Jazz explained, her voice trembling. "Not honing in on Danny's ectosignature can mean one of two things: either something's blocking the signal, meaning he may have been captured—"

"—Which would be bad," Valerie attested.

Jazz grimaced more deeply. "—Or he's dead."

Valerie widened her eyes.

"Which would be worse."

Both stood in silence for a moment, staring at the boooomerang as if it was Death itself, come to claim someone dear. Jazz's mind tumbled over thoughts of her possibly-dead brother, but Valerie tried to remain rational and level-headed through her own horrid imaginings. Through all her years of ghost hunting, she'd learned to keep focused on a task pretty easily, ignoring the discomforts her own thoughts might bring her.

"Well, let's hope for the best and find that map," she affirmed pointedly, marching off to the bookshelf in the lab, and Jazz eventually followed her.

But she kept her wide eyes on the boooomerang and its unblinking green light.

DPDPDPDPDPDPDPDPDPDPDPDPDPDPDPDDPDPDPDPDPDPDPDPDPDPDPDPDPDPDPDPDPDPDPDPDPDP

_A loud crash alerted Danny from his dazed and terrified stage as the mouth of the cave was closed off behind Skulker. Meaning they were left in the dark with the exception of the eerie, green glow being emitted by what Danny assumed was the "heater" Skulker had been jabbering about._

_Terrific._

_With a shuddering breath, he managed to calm his chaotic avalanche of thoughts as he closed his eyes and turned to his friends in the darkness._

"_Well, that…could've gone better," Tucker surmised after a few brief moments of silence._

_At this, Danny rapidly shot Tucker a death glare, making sure his eyes glowed to emphasize his annoyance._

_Tucker just shrugged. "Well, it could've."_

"_Tucker, will you please stop antagonizing him? He's just as stuck as we are," Sam reprimanded her best friend, trying to protect Danny from his own tendency to blame himself for things._

_But Danny would have none of it. _

"_Would you stop talking about me like I'm not here?" he mumbled angrily, turning toward the heater to analyze their situation._

Okay, let's see: Sam, Tucker and I are trapped in a human/ghost shield in a cave in Skulker's lair in the middle of the Ghost Zone. The only person that knows we're here is Jazz, and she won't start to get worried for another few hours, _Danny thought, getting more dismayed as his analysis continued. _And I guess we'll just have to skip that movie with Valerie later.

Ah, dang.

_With a heavy sigh, he scrunched his eyes shut and knelt to the ground to stop the room from spinning. This was too much to think about at once._

"_Well, maybe a ghost power will work on that heater, at least," Sam suggested, hoping to cheer up her obviously frazzled boyfriend._

_Danny let his eyes open slowly, and he nodded to her request, wordlessly walking over toward the heater only to notice, as he got closer, that it was _outside_ the shield._

_Freakin' Skulker._

_He huffed indignantly. His hands grew increasingly brighter with that green light the ecto-blasts always emanated, and he finally shot the energy from his hands directly toward the heater, just in case Skulker's shield had some sort of glitch which caused it to be penetrable by his ghost rays._

_Alas, no such luck._

_In fact, Danny watched in mild alarm as the green blast rocketed toward the shield, only to ricochet off and head straight back toward his head. He managed to duck in time, but as he watched the blast bounce throughout the rest of the "room," he had very little time to utter a warning to his just-as-shocked comrades._

_No time, in fact._

_Just after it had bounced toward him, Danny watched in panic as the blast sailed straight toward Tucker._

"_AAaaAAHH!" the techno-geek cried out in alarm, attempting to dodge the blast only to get hit in the side with it._

"_Ow!" he yelped, rubbing his abdomen. "Watch it, man!"_

_Danny grimaced. "I'm sorry! I didn't know ecto-blasts bounced off of shields."_

_Sam winced at Tucker. "Maybe you shouldn't try any more tricks, Danny. I'm sure Jazz will come in time."_

_But, just as she said this, the trio felt a stifling puff of hot air blow towards them, and they all let out whiny moans as though they were merely trapped waiting in line for some ride at the Pier on a humid summer's day._

"_Ugh, man, this is gonna be brutal," Tucker acknowledged, feeling the sudden stickiness of the air around them and taking off his standard backpack to lighten his load._

_Danny nodded diligently. "Then I can't give up. I've got to try all my powers. They can't possibly all bounce."_

_Tucker and Sam were just left to exchange nervous glances as Danny metaphorically rolled up his sleeves._

_He tried it all: intangibility, which left him hitting his head rather hard; ice powers, which barely reached the shield before melting; flying straight at the side, which left him another sizable bump on the head; and finally, he got ready to perform his greatest power, the ghostly wail._

_But that was the final straw for Sam._

"_Really, Danny? You think your ecto-blasts are gonna bounce, and your ghostly wail is just gonna disappear when it hits the wall?"_

_Danny shrugged. "It's possible."_

"_May I remind you, dude, that ecto-blasts are no fun to get hit with," Tucker chimed in. "I can't imagine a ghostly wail being any better."_

_Danny hesitated, "Well, maybe I can just try it a little bit? Like…a tiny wail just to see if it works? You guys get behind me just in case it bounces back."_

_Still against the idea, Tucker and Sam reluctantly stood behind Danny, allowing him to try his final power to get them out of here. __He took a deep, gulping breath and blasted the wall with a lot more intensity than he'd intended._

_Then he sighed in resignation as the blast bounced right back to him._

"_Augh!" he gasped, getting hit by his own power off the rebound, and, unfortunately, dragging Sam and Tucker back with him._

_Okay, so maybe not the best idea._

_But now he was left with an even worse thought: he really couldn't get them out of here. They were officially stuck._

_Tucker rubbed his head where he'd been thrown back against the shield. "Not that that wasn't fun, but don't ever do that again, Danny."_

_Danny frowned and nodded sullenly before shuffling over to a corner, away from his friends, to sulk. He had failed them. And by doing so, he had betrayed them and their trust in him. As another wave of heat washed over him, he groaned and sat down, pulling his knees to his chest and resting his head, feeling defeated, in his arms._

_Tucker sighed at his friend but was unable to think of anything remotely comforting, so he kept his trap shut…for once. But as the next wave of heat reached him, as well, he breathed heavily and reached down to the hem of his already-sweat-drenched shirt and pulled it over his head, leaving him shirtless. He heaved another sigh, but this time, it was one of relief, as he sat on the ground in the middle of the room._

_Sam shot him an annoyed glance, but sat next to him, anyway, figuring Danny was in one of those "moods" where disturbing him would probably not be the best idea. He'd have to ride out this guilt trip on his own. _

_So the three best friends sat alone and in silence in the darkness for several lengthy minutes, feeling troubled, pensive, hurting, and most of all, _hot.

_Sam and Tucker had both now forgone their sitting positions in favor of lying on the floor—spreading out and keeping a decent distance between them—to even out the heat which now filled the room like smoke, making it difficult for them to even breathe correctly. They panted and sweat rolled down their bodies as the intensity of it increased. _

_Feeling like her lungs were closing in on her, Sam's mind mulled over the last half hour or so that they'd been trapped in here, and she became more and more irritated as time went on. She felt her heavy, black clothes become drenched with sweat and humidity, and they began to cling to her body, making the high temperature even more unbearable. She glanced resentfully at Tucker._

"_How is it fair that guys can so easily just take their shirts off to escape the inferno?" she asked grumpily, her tongue feeling dry already._

_Tucker turned to her and gave a playful smile. "Hey, no one's saying you can't!"_

_She shot him a death glare. _She must be learning those from Danny—that one was pretty convincing_, Tucker thought._

_But his mischievous grin immediately turned somber as he continued. "I'm serious, though, Sam. If it's too hot, I don't want you to die because you have to maintain your girly pride or something. We're best friends; it's not like it matters."_

_They heard Danny say something that was muffled by the fact that his face was in his arms, but neither was about to question the touchy lad yet._

"_Besides, if you don't want me to look or something, I won't," Tucker added, hoping to appease the couple as he glanced between Danny and Sam._

"_Like I believe that," Sam muttered sarcastically. _

_But she had to admit that Tucker did have a point. If she had to choose between her pride and her comfort…possibly her life…well, it was a tough call. But her life may have been a tad more valuable. __She sighed in a rare moment of defeat. _

"_Fine. I'll take off my shirt," she managed awkwardly, "and my leggings and boots, but the skirt and bra and everything else are staying on, Tucker."_

_She sat up slowly, suddenly feeling an odd tingling sensation in her stomach. Was she nervous? She glanced at Danny, whose head was still in his arms, but he seemed to be getting a lot more tense as he heard her moving. _

_Was he nervous?_

_She shook her head. It didn't matter. She gripped the bottom of her shirt and began to pull it up, but she felt a blush cross her already-heat-flushed cheeks, and she looked almost apologetically at Tucker._

"_Um, Tuck," she said lightly, nerves clear in her voice. "Could you maybe look the other way while I do this? I mean…I don't know. It just feels sorta awkward, and—"_

"_Understood," he acknowledged sympathetically, knowing when to calm down his penchant for being annoying when it really mattered. _

_As soon as she was sure he wasn't looking, and also checking to make sure Danny's head remained hidden (no matter how tense he looked now), she quickly threw her shirt off with a deep breath and removed her boots and itchy leggings with the swiftness of a nerve-wracked cheetah. She breathed a soothing puff of relief as she felt the, albeit sticky, air hit her skin instead of drenching her clothes and making them heavier. She sighed and laid back down, checking herself to make sure that nothing was visible that shouldn't be, and then turned back to Tucker._

"_It's okay, now. I'm done," she said, feeling slightly more comfortable._

_Tucker shifted and returned to his position on his back, passing a glance over at Danny. In fact, Danny's head perking up slightly at Sam's words was not lost on either of them, and Tucker smirked._

_Shuffling around slightly to arouse Danny's suspicions, Tucker watched as Danny finally lifted his head enough to peak over at his friends, his curiosity overriding his persistent guilt trip. But Tucker was surprised when Danny's glance only lasted for about half a second on Sam before he turned away, looking slightly embarrassed and blushing. It actually made Tucker smile at the somewhat sweetness of it. Perhaps his thoughts about his friends being anything but innocent had been wrong, after all. Danny still seemed humble and nervous in the presence of a barely-clothed Sam. _

_Good._

_But, spurred on by Danny's burst from self-imposed isolation, Tucker shot a look at his friend wonderingly and asked, "Aren't you hot, man?"_

_Both he and Sam noticed that Danny kept his face turned away from them as he shook his head slightly and shrugged._

"_Not really," he said casually, his voice sounding hoarse from disuse and maybe…something else._

_Tucker just laughed. "Well, I guess that's one advantage of being a ghost, huh? You can feel the heat, but it doesn't affect you."_

_Danny winced, but Sam continued. _

"_I think it's an advantage of being a ghost with _ice powers_," she clarified. "Those must help keep him cool internally or something."_

_He again grimaced, feeling awful that he got to feel these advantages and his friends were left to suffer…and then something clicked in his head._

_He had ice powers._

_To use._

_On them._

_A smile made its way slowly on to his face, and he turned to his friends. Sam and Tucker again looked at each other with a knowing glance, seeing that goofy grin on Danny's face. That was his "I have a crazy good idea" face._

_Without a word, he took a deep breath and blew a gentle, soft wave of icy cold air towards his friends, watching in amusement and triumph as they relaxed and smiled serenely into the coolness that brushed over them._

"_Whoa. Why didn't we think of that before?" Tucker asked plainly, still relishing in the sweetness of the chill._

_Danny made a face. "Because I was too caught up in my failure to think of anything that might help. Sorry, guys."_

_Sam smiled, glad to see him back to his normal self…minus the fact that every time he looked at her, he blushed like crazy, even through the heat._

"_Well, as long as you keep doing that every once in awhile, getting through this will be a snap," she concluded, cherishing the moment before the coolness quickly drifted away._

"_Think you could hit us with another breeze, dude?" Tucker asked._

_Danny grinned. "Sure."_

_But, this time, he noticed, as he drew in a sharp breath, he suddenly _was _starting to feel the heat around them. He blew again toward Tucker and Sam, watching as they began to doze off sleepily, freshened and comforted by his ice powers. _

"_You guys should sleep or something—there's no telling how long we'll be here," he suggested, trying not to let them notice he was suddenly panting._

_Oblivious to anything but the relief the cold air gave them, Tucker and Sam easily fell asleep, probably even before he was done telling them to do so._

_He smiled at them, glad he had finally found a way to help them. But then he felt a sudden jab of his own insides rebelling against him, and he felt a sweat drop roll down his back. Perhaps his ice powers didn't make him impervious to the heat. _

_At least, not while he was using them._

_Suddenly anxious, he unzipped the top of his jumpsuit and tossed it aside, leaving the bottom half on for the sake of dignity. He glanced once more at his friends and couldn't help but let his eyes linger on Sam for just a moment longer than before, then he went back to concentrating on the less uplifting things, like his ice powers and how long it would take for Jazz to get here._

_As his friends shuffled uncomfortably in their sleep, Danny wafted a gentle gust toward them, shutting his eyes as his lungs screamed at him to stop, and he hoped Jazz would come soon. _

_Because, despite Sam's words of reassurance, Danny wasn't thinking anymore that this was going to be a snap._

* * *

**So...the top of his jumpsuit _has_ come off without the rest of it at some point in the show, yes? Or...well, it can now.**

**No more flashbacks after this--we're all caught up to present time. And, speaking of time, good ol' Clockwork should be coming around the next chapter. So keep your eyes peeled. And please leave a review to let me know what needs fixed and what needs to stay exactly as is. This chapter was a major headache for me, and it was sort of hard to write, so I'd love to know from you what turned out well, and what turned out...not so well. Thank you.**


	4. When

**A/N: Well, that took quite a bit longer than I anticipated; sorry about that, guys. I went on vacation for awhile, then I was caught up in an unexpected shift in fandom obsessions. Happened pretty quickly, but don't worry. This story will get finished, as it is mostly written, just needs touched up. And I still love DP, so don't worry about me abandoning the fandom altogether, either. Eh, enough excuses, here's the difficult-to-make-sound-fluid chapter four:**

* * *

_Heat_

_Chapter Four: When_

God, it was getting so hot.

After Sam had woken up, Danny had sat back down against the wall, but then he'd immediately resigned to sprawling out across the floor as his friends had. The heat was finally getting to him. He could feel his insides boiling every time he let out a breath of cool air. But when he heard his friends whimpering or saw the sweat roll down their bodies, what was he to do?

Keep it for himself?

No, he would never do that. Never in a million years. Never at any point in—

—Time suddenly stopped.

No…really, it did.

Danny looked around at the smokiness that drifted through the room. The clouds of heat no longer moved, Sam and Tucker no longer shifted or, Danny noticed to his horror, even breathed. Despite the lethargy and heat that consumed him, he sat up and spun around wildly, trying to figure out what had just happened and why this wasn't affecting him.

Clockwork.

That would figure.

Danny let out the breath he had worriedly been holding and allowed himself to collapse back to the ground with a sigh.

"Geez, Clockwork, warn a guy next time," he muttered, grateful that the lack of movement around him hadn't been caused by a heat stroke or sudden glitch in the world. Er...inexplicable glitch, anyway.

Clockwork merely smiled. "I _have_ come to warn you, Daniel."

Danny attempted a half-grin. "Nice segue. So what exactly are you warning me about? Did my evil future self escape? Vlad get a case of ecto-acne again?"

"No. Though, to be fair, _you're_ the one who came to _me _for those problems," the Time Master explained, his expression suddenly hardening into one of complete solemnity. "But those, as they say, are in the past, and I am here for your future. Do you realize what you are doing?"

Danny lifted an eyebrow and sat up. "What? Getting locked up in a shield that gets exponentially hotter with my two best friends and trying to find a way to keep us all alive? Yeah, I think I know what I'm doing."

"I didn't ask you if you knew what was going on; I asked if you realized what you were doing."

"Helping my friends and trying to figure a way out of this," Danny replied succinctly, already beginning to question what Clockwork really wanted from him. "I think I 'realize,' yeah."

Clockwork shook his head, clearly annoyed. "I mean by using up your own powers?"

Danny looked away. So Clockwork knew about the pain he'd been feeling every time he tried to help Sam and Tucker, the feeling that he was losing something deep inside of him. Well, of course he did. Clockwork knew everything. But Danny just shrugged, not making eye contact with the ghost of time.

"If you use too much of your own ice powers, you will become overheated yourself, both inside and out," Clockwork continued. "They're your body's cooling system."

Danny shrugged again, "Yeah, I sorta figured that out when my lungs started feeling like they were on fire," he said sarcastically. "So? What's your point?"

"So…you will die if you continue to use it at this rate for your friends," Clockwork said finally, a look of what might be sorrow passing over his eyes.

Danny felt a brick drop into his stomach, and he gave a dry gulp, but he tried not to let his true feelings be known. Secretly, he knew this was possible; he'd been getting worse as time went on in this little virtual version of hell, but he hadn't wanted to admit it to himself. Not to mention, he had a backup plan to rely on.

But shouldn't Clockwork know all this…?

"No," Danny said solidly. "Jazz will come eventually. Somehow."

Clockwork let out a tired breath and looked to Danny sympathetically. He gazed shiftily all around him, making sure no one would stop him from interfering before he continued.

"I can assure you that both your sister and Valerie _are_ on their way, but they're having trouble locating you," Clockwork whispered so as not to attract the attention of the Observants who would surely punish him for this. "I can't tell you more about the affairs of others, however. What I _can_ tell you is that, at this rate, there is a 99.5% chance that you and your friends will die before help gets here."

Anything that had been left in Danny's head and chest immediately plummeted to his stomach after the news, making him feel rather nauseous and dizzy as he continued listening through the buzz in his brain. Then why the heck was Clockwork here in the first place? Just to tell him that they were all going to die?

"However," Clockwork proceeded cautiously, "if you stop using your ice powers now, there is a better chance for your own survival."

And, suddenly, it clicked. Clockwork was giving him advice. A choice that was really no choice at all.

"And my friends?" Danny asked angrily.

"They will die," the Time Master said simply.

Danny laughed slightly. "Oh, yeah. Good plan. Sorry, but I'm not gonna take that option."

He stood up shakily, aware of his sudden weakness, but he turned to try to walk out of the "time bubble." He wasn't going to sit here and listen to someone telling him to let his friends die so he could live.

But Clockwork sifted over to block his path, lowering his eyebrows to showcase the gravity of the situation.

"Do you realize what's at stake here?" he asked Danny, his voice echoing ominously.

Danny shrugged with an air of carelessness. "My life?"

"MILLIONS of lives!" Clockwork very nearly shouted, making Danny all the more nervous. "You protect the entire human world from a potentially horrid onslaught of ghosts; you alone stand between destruction and survival for many. Your life is incredibly valuable due to your nature as a half ghost. If you die trying to save these friends, many more will die in the future due to your absence."

Danny's eyes widened at the revelations that were suddenly hitting him hard across the face. His powers were diminishing; Jazz and Valerie were both coming, but possibly lost; he and his friends were dying; he could live if he sacrificed them; if he died, millions more would die in the future.

A little too much for a sixteen-year-old boy to handle all at once.

But then, his entire life since the accident had been too much to handle.

Danny took a deep breath, processing the information Clockwork had just given him. So this was why Clockwork had shown up. He'd sworn never to help Danny and his petty own needs again, not after the horrible alternate future he had experienced last time; so of course he wouldn't show up just to offer Danny some advice and useful information. It wasn't just his life at stake—it wasn't even just his and Sam's and Tucker's—it was an entire world of people he'd sworn to protect, if he were lost.

But that still didn't change anything.

"Maybe all of that is true. And…it's terrible. I don't want to have that kind of weight on my shoulders," Danny acknowledged softly, all hints of sarcasm gone as a tear blurred his vision, causing his body to protest any loss of water. "But I do.

"But let me ask you something, Clockwork. What happens if I let Sam and Tucker, my best friends, die?" he asked, voice shaking in frustration and fear.

"Then you save many more in the future," Clockwork responded simply, but with a gentleness uncharacteristic of the nearly-omniscient ghost.

Danny lifted the corners of his mouth bitterly. "No. If I…let that happen now… wouldn't that lead me on a trail of believing certain sacrifices are necessary for the betterment of the world?"

"Yes. They are."

Danny scoffed furiously, "But when does it end, then?"

Clockwork merely stared at him, seeming almost confused and thinking through the possibilities.

Danny saw his hesitation and jumped on it, attempting to better explain his decision. "I mean, first it would be Tucker and Sam in favor of 'the world,' but then who? If I have to choose between saving one person now or one thousand in the future, I should choose the latter, right?"

Clockwork nodded wordlessly.

"No," Danny breathed. "A hero—which is what I'm _trying_ to be, as crazy as that sounds—saves people, no matter what the cost. If I just sit around and let Sam and Tucker die now, how can I ever consider myself a 'hero' to anybody else? Maybe I'll save other lives in the future, but I will have failed two people—two very important people to me—by letting them die when I had the power to stop it. I couldn't live with that, and I won't. The cost for any future is too much if I have to let them die."

As Danny composed himself after giving such a devastating argument, Clockwork just continued to shake his head in aggravation.

"But you WON'T be able to stop them from dying anyway. You are sacrificing for a lost cause!"

"No, I'm not!" Danny cried. "And it wouldn't matter if I was! It's the principle of the idea—I live and just let them die? Even if I could allow myself to live in order to save others, it wouldn't matter; I'd still have two very heavily-weighed deaths on my hands. And you know how well I handle loss…" he trailed off, getting a dark and regretful glint in his eyes for just a moment as he thought of his future counterpart.

"I could take option two. I could die trying to save them. Then, at least, I would be _trying_, and I wouldn't have to live without them or with the guilt," he continued. "And as messed up as it sounds, I think that's a slightly better option.

"But you know what would be even better? We live—all three of us. What'd you say the odds of all us dying are?"

By now Danny was in full-fledged tears; they burned as they rolled down his face, and his insides protested. The desperation he was beginning to feel consumed him. He willed Clockwork to give him something—anything—to give him some kind of hope.

But the ghost held next to nothing of the sort.

"99.5%," he answered quietly to counter Danny's emotional outburst.

"I never was very good at math," Danny whispered. "I'm gonna vote in favor of that .5%."

Clockwork angrily opened his mouth to protest, but Danny wouldn't allow any other arguments.

"You'll see, Clockwork. You may know everything, but you know _too much_—every single possible route that danged 'parade' or whatever can take. Well, I'm taking the alleyway, the road less taken, whatever you wanna call it. I'm gonna send your parade on a detour, and you'll see that the future is NEVER set in stone."

Danny continued to stare down Clockwork through red-rimmed but determined eyes, proud of his case and certain that he could prevent the likely outcome; he even gave a wry smile in acknowledgement of his ability to maintain an extended metaphor. If—when—they got out of this, he'd have to remember to share that with Lancer. But Clockwork merely closed his eyes degradedly in resignation.

He sighed. "Unfortunately, the future very often _is_ set in stone, Daniel. But I've done all I can to convince you—in fact, too much. I can stall and interfere no longer."

With a look of pity, the Master of Time swirled out of the room, and time resumed at its rightful pace.

Danny fell to his knees after Clockwork's departure, feeling the heat and desperation engulf him. He put his forehead in his hand, and he fought to bite back the feelings of panic that bubbled within him. He couldn't let this happen. None of them would die—he'd show Clockwork. The future didn't always have to happen the same way he predicted.

Danny, Sam, and Tucker would all make it out of this alive.

But as those mixed feelings overwhelmed him, the continuous heat became too much for Tucker, and Danny turned to see his best friend crying through strangled gasps.

"D—Danny?" he managed through the dryness in his mouth and the pain that coursed through him as he struggled to find a comfortable position.

Danny breathed in slowly. Somehow, he was suddenly more hesitant to use his ice powers after the confirmation from Clockwork of what the consequences were for him. But as Tucker whimpered again, Danny could only sigh once before gathering up his energy and blowing toward his friend.

Then, he groaned.

It hurt.

But Tucker seemed to settle down slightly. He opened his eyes slowly and turned his head in the direction of his comrade, furrowing his brow slightly in worry when he saw Danny doubled over in pain.

"Dude, you okay?" he asked genuinely only to be met by a marked glare from Danny.

"Sorry—standard question, ya know," he said lightly. "What's wrong, man?"

Heedless of the fact that Tucker had no knowledge of what had just gone on in Danny's world, the ghost boy exploded on his friend.

"What's wrong? We're stuck in a room that keeps getting freakishly hotter; we have absolutely no idea where Jazz is, if she's even really coming at all; and if she is, we don't know when she's going to get here; you guys are practically dying of heat exhaustion; and, to top it all off, I'm pretty sure my clothes are ruined beyond repair from being in this freakin' place," he shouted angrily, gesticulating wildly at Tucker, who merely paled at the sight of his friend in such disarray and backed down.

"Um…I'm sorry? Geez, man, if you needed to talk to someone about it, you could have woken me up. It's not that bad being awake," he lied. "Besides, I feel pretty well-rested now, anyway."

Just then, they heard a loud gurgling sound, and both were caught off-guard until Danny looked in surprise at Tucker's stomach.

"Heh, I've missed several of my hourly feedings, not to mention dinner. But I don't suppose you could cook me up a big old pile of meat with any of those ghost powers of yours?" Tucker suggested sheepishly. He knew, unfortunately, that Danny was no Lunch Lady.

Regardless, Danny closed his eyes and took a few breaths, trying to calm himself from his seemingly sudden outburst and building up enough strength to manage a fair-sized snowball in his hands.

Tucker's expression turned from light-hearted hunger to deep concern as he watched his best friend. He saw the unusual amount of effort Danny was putting into his creation, and his subsequent grunts of agony left Tucker nonplussed and nervous.

Ever so slowly, Danny held out his ice ball to Tucker, making sure to keep it intact for as long as possible.

"Can't do much better than a snow cone," Danny gasped, holding his stomach and squeezing his eyes shut.

Tucker cautiously accepted the ball and gulped it down as quickly as possible, never tearing his gaze from Danny.

"What's up, dude? I thought the heat wasn't affecting you 'cause of your ice powers?"

Danny looked up at him, pain evident in his tear-glazed eyes. "I thought so, too. But I think it's…starting to now. I'm sorry I took it out on you, though, Tuck. It's just," he inhaled sharply, "hot."

Tucker nodded wordlessly, still staring worriedly at his buddy. "You know, I think I have a fan in my backpack. The battery's dead, but…I guess that's not a problem for you anymore," he said softly, thinking back with slight bitterness to (_had it really only been that long?_) this afternoon when he'd noticed Danny and Sam's relationship beginning to take a step beyond what he was comfortable with. "Think you could use that?"

Danny thought for just a moment, then shook his head. "Nah, it would just be blowing hot air. Not much use in that. It only makes sense for me to blow air toward you guys."

Tucker continued to eye him suspiciously, but nodded nonetheless. "Well, if you need to take a break from the cooling off gig for awhile, I'm sure we can handle the heat for—"

"NO!" Danny cut him off loudly, causing Tucker to quiet down quickly. "No, Tuck, I don't think that would be a good idea. You guys need to keep cooled off and hydrated."

"Yeah, well, so do you, man," Tucker warned him. Danny winced slightly but attempted to smile in agreement.

"I know. I'll be okay, trusts me," Danny tried to sound more confident than his gut was allowing him to feel. "We all will."

Tucker breathed for a moment, then looked back down at Sam, who was still sleeping uncomfortably. Memories of that afternoon cascaded back into his mind and made him feel suddenly lonesome and left out. Without thinking, he continued with his suggestions.

"If you want to save up some power, you could always just use it on her," he mumbled impulsively. "If you had to make the choice between me and her, I know who you would choose."

Danny simply ogled him, mouth agape with disbelief at what he had just heard. "What?"

Tucker's melancholy gaze shifted to surprise when he heard Danny respond to him—apparently, he hadn't realized he was speaking out loud. "Uh…nothing."

Danny remained stern. "No, I heard what you said, Tucker. I just can't believe you said that. I can't believe you would even _think_ that!"

Danny looked at Sam then back to Tucker, fear and stubbornness in his eyes. "Maybe I love her—I don't even know yet—but, in a way, I love you, too, Tuck! You're my _best friend_. Nothing's ever going to change that. I love both you guys, and I swear I will _never _let anything happen to either of you as long as I'm around."

Tucker was taken aback by the fierceness with which Danny made his assessment and the tears that welled up in his friends eyes as he spoke.

"I'm sorry, Danny; I know that," Tucker whispered. "It's just that…when I see you guys together, I just…I feel like we're not the same anymore. We used to know everything about each other, and we used to be, like, a trio. But now I sort of feel like the third wheel sometimes. I know you care about both of us, Danny, because I care about both of you guys, too. I just wish I didn't have to miss so many things, now."

Danny's stare softened, and he shifted so that he was seated next to Tucker, placing a hand on his shoulder for support. "I didn't know this was affecting you so much, Tuck. Why didn't you just say something? We can include you on more of the stuff we do—I can't promise you all of our dates—but we can always make room for our best friend. To be honest, I miss you a lot when I'm just with Sam. I mean, don't get me wrong—it's great finally officially being 'with' her—but you're right. It's not the same without you."

His face hardened as he continued. "I promise, when we get out of this, I'll try to be better about this stuff. I don't want to lose either of you…"

His voice trailed off as tears welled up in his throat. Tucker gave him a small smile and then gave his friend a gentle punch in the arm.

"It's cool, man," he said. "Well, not literally, but…you know."

Danny just nodded, laughing the slightest bit at Tucker's attempt at a joke, before regaining his air of authority. "You'd better get back to sleep, Tuck. As nice as it is talking with you, I think we really are letting out too much hot air."

They both smiled at each other, content with their friendship once more, as Tucker settled back down and fell asleep before his head even touched the ground.

Danny had half a mind to wake Tucker back up and share with him the revelations that Clockwork had recently exposed, but he decided against it. Tucker didn't need to know, and neither did Sam for that matter. Knowing them, they would probably be willing to sacrifice themselves for the sake of others.

But Danny was still unwilling to make that sacrifice.

Even when Sam moaned in her sleep, he tried to stay calm as he blew a soft wind her way. Every kind of fluid within him was boiling and screaming at him to stop this madness, but he ignored his needs. He was going to show Clockwork. Logic didn't always dictate, and probability was just numbers.

They _were _going to make it out of this—all of them. He just had to keep believing that until Jazz and Valerie showed up.

* * *

**Alas, poor soul. But Danny angst is enjoyable for me, and I hope for you, as well. By the way, someone want to tell me how to write, in a structurally-correct format, "99.5%" as a sentence? I tried writing it several ways using words, but it always looked awkward and boring to read numbers that way. Any suggestions or legitimate corrections would be enormously appreciated. I'd love to hear from anyone, actually, regarding any reaction to this story so far. It's lovely to hear from people, and I love to respond, as well. So I hope you enjoyed it, but if not, let me know why and I shall attempt to do you better next time around. One chapter left, all. Get ready.**


	5. Why

**A/N: Well, sorry for the wait there, don'tcha know. (Dairy King cameo over). Seriously, all, I apologize, but real life seems to have snuck up on me lately, and I haven't been able to do a thing with my poor fanfiction life. It's sad. BUT, I've finally finished "Heat." It's been a long journey, full of moves, vacations, college, and wonky keyboards that refuse to let me type more quickly than two words per minute, and it's finally come to a close. Not sure how you all will feel about the ending. I know I have mixed feelings. :P But, try to enjoy it anyway, and let me know what I could/should have done to make your story and day just a little bit brighter. Thank you, and pleasant reading.**

**Also note: for some reason, fanfiction will no longer let me center things, like my adorable little title for story and chapter here. Most unfortunate. My apologies.**

_

* * *

_

_Heat_

_Chapter Five: Why_

"Are you sure this is the way?" Jazz asked incredulously.

"No. We've been through this—I have no idea how to get to Skulker's lair," Valerie clarified through gritted teeth. She'd never spent much time with Danny's sister before, but she was starting to realize why the girl had so few friends. Did she _ever _shut up?

The two were moseying through the Ghost Zone at a pretty fair pace, Valerie guiding the jet sled and Jazz sitting nervously on the back, knuckles white from holding on so tightly. They'd finally managed to locate a map…only to realize that Danny's notes and drawings were pretty crude, and the thing was covered in smudges which they couldn't decipher as being swirling vortexes of death or thumbprints. Jazz assumed that Danny must have given up on the project eventually; with the Infi-Map and their almost-daily visits to the Zone, who needed a map, anyway?

She did.

And now she was stuck with Valerie helplessly floating through the Ghost Zone in search of her lost brother and his comrades.

"But you said you've been here before. Surely you must remember _some _of it," Jazz pushed, knowing her antagonizing wouldn't get her far, but figuring that trying to get to Valerie might actually help the younger girl remember. She was always up to trying unique psychological techniques, even if they had no legitimate basis…yet.

She could practically hear Valerie growl in resentment. "I TOLD you, I was unconscious on the way there, and your brother so lovingly overshadowed me on the way back. I have no idea where we're going, but I'd like to get there in silence!"

Jazz sighed.

"Whatever. You probably don't even remember what it looks like," she continued, hoping patronization would work.

Valerie turned to the mini-psychiatrist with irritation clear in her eyes. "Look. I remember what it looks like, but I don't remember how to get there, and I'm not going to remember if you keep running your mouth, so just _shut it._ Okay?"

But Jazz felt, for some reason, as though she was on the verge of a breakthrough and continued, heedless of Valerie's warning. "I'm not gonna shut it! It's my little brother out there, and having someone with _no idea where we're going_ navigating the way makes me just a tad uncomfortable. At least I've been in the Ghost Zone more recently than you. Maybe you should let me take a whack at steering this thing since you obviously can't locate Skulker's lair for beans!"

Jazz huffed and crossed her arms, mildly surprised at how assertive she could be, and stared at Valerie, whose face indicated that she was ready to explode.

"Now, LOOK HERE, _Jazz, _I don't need you in my face and yelling crap about BEANS while I'm trying to—" she quickly cut herself off, her mind racing as she stared, eyes glazed over, off into space.

At her abrupt silence, Jazz's expression turned to worry, and she pushed, "Valerie?"

Valerie mumbled something, a smirk tugging at her lips, and Jazz lowered her eyebrows and leaned in closer.

"What did you say?" she asked the other girl, still concerned.

"I said, 'I REMEMBER!'" she shrieked, causing Jazz to recoil backwards on the sled as Valerie pushed its speed to the limit, and they soared off.

Perplexed and more than slightly startled, Jazz gripped the sides of the sled and inquired, "What sparked THIS?"

Valerie's confident smile faltered for a moment as she looked back at Jazz, pride clearly conflicting with the joy at her revelation.

"You said, 'beans,'" she muttered reluctantly. "When Danny and I were here last time, we had that stupid flour sack kid, and it…"

"…smelled like beans," Jazz finished for her, now smirking to herself and probably more glad than she should have been that her method had, however unintentionally, worked. _Inserting random clichéd phrases into the psychology session may spark a memory._

"Yeah," Valerie agreed, a little annoyed, but more relieved that she'd remembered.

"Smell is the sense most strongly connected with memory," Jazz tried to comfort her. "Don't feel too bad that I got to you. At least we're on the right track now. So how much farther, do you think?"

Valerie hesitated, looking around at the numerous doors and trying to measure how far into the zone they were and what landmarks she needed to look for.

"I don't know. Half hour to an hour?" she managed a guess, spotting a purple metal door that seemed to look more familiar by the second. She'd definitely passed that one before.

Jazz nodded and felt somewhat comforted by Valerie's newfound air of confidence. "Let's hope that's enough time."

And they blasted off through the Ghost Zone in search of the unknown fates of their friends.

* * *

He was exhausted.

Completely sprawled out over the ground, Danny could barely form cohesive thoughts anymore, and his body was begging him to just go to sleep. To shut down. To stop this madness.

But he refused.

He was down to his boxers, and in fact, they were all as unclothed as they could be without complete nudity. Somehow, pride still seemed to override the desire to be just that smidgen cooler…not to mention, stripping completely probably wouldn't help anyway. In fact, taking anything off probably didn't necessarily help…it just felt better for a moment before the next burst of hot humidity poured over them. And it was beginning to become impossible to tell when those bursts came. It was just a perpetually hellish sauna.

Through his foggy mind, Danny strained to hear a muffled sob. He turned his head slowly toward the desperate cry, knowing already who it was and wishing he could do something about it. Sam was crying, frustration and fear and heat all combining into one helpless conglomeration of emotions. He frowned in her direction but didn't move until he heard her whisper his name.

He sighed. Movement was not going to be appreciated. At least, not by him.

Sluggishly, he crawled over to her form on the ground. She was tossing and turning desperately, willing the heavy blanket to be thrown off in her sleep…but that relief would never come, and Danny had to shut his eyes and squeeze them tight to throw his increasingly-hopeless thoughts away.

"Shh, it's okay, Sam," he soothed as best he could through his tired and croaking voice. Fewer words were best. No need to expend energy on useless comforts.

"Wa—wa," she tried, but simply ended up grunting in anger when her mouth was too dry to work.

Understanding, though, Danny raised his hands and, against every fiber of his physical being, created a snowball which melted more quickly than usual. Through gritted teeth and a clenching sensation in his stomach, Danny hastily drew his hands towards Sam so she could drink. Thankfully, she was more or less ready, propping herself up to receive the liquid.

She downed the supply eagerly, oblivious to his cries of anguish. He was trying to gulp in air, but his ribs protested any movements inside of him. This was getting bad.

"More," she requested sleepily, clearly reduced to a child from too much time spent in the sweat box.

Danny could feel the tears begin to cloud his vision as she pleaded. God, how he wished he could. But any more of this and he knew it would be over…for all of them.

"No," he forced himself to say, even as he recoiled from her heartbroken stare. "Not now."

She cried a little more and looked immensely hurt by his refusal, but he had to stand his ground. Whatever supply he had left had to be conserved. Instead, he moved over to lie next to her, placing a still-cool hand on her forehead as she settled down slightly. He shushed her repeatedly, not trusting his groggy brain to come up with any witty retorts or sayings of reassurance at such a desperate hour. He was just ready for it all to be over.

And yet he refused to give up. He _had_ to prove Clockwork wrong.

"Don't worry, Sam," he whispered quietly, not sure if she could even hear him as his voice slurred. "You're gonna live."

He could feel the creases in her brow even out as she relaxed slightly in his presence, and he sighed as best he could in relief when she appeared to drift back into the worriless land of sleep. He should be concerned about how much his friends had been unconscious lately. That couldn't be too good for them at some point. People were always telling their dying buddies on TV and in movies not to go to sleep, to stay awake, to stay away from the light…but Danny couldn't deal with his friends' pain when they were awake. And he was so tired. He figured letting them sleep was as close as he was going to get to rest himself.

He was surprised when he heard a faint whisper come from Sam. Perhaps just a dream or an odd-sounding sigh, but he was curious anyway.

"What?" he managed, poking her slightly to signal that he was asking her.

"Don't leave us," she mumbled turning her face his direction. "Don't leave me, Danny."

He looked into her sleeping face (_Was she sleeping? Her eyes were closed…_) and could feel his heart plummet. Reaching out a weak and shaky hand, he moved a sweaty strand of hair out of her face and tucked it behind her ear, trying to force himself to concentrate on a fairly simple task so that he wouldn't cry. They were all at the ends of their ropes…it was getting to the point where they could feel their energy and life just slipping right away, being carried into the thick dungeon air as they slowly died.

_No._ Danny tried to convince himself even as he had to let his working hand fall limply to the ground from lack of energy. _We're gonna make it._

"I won't leave," he essentially coughed back at her as she slept. "I promise I won't."

And there. He couldn't break a promise…

Could he?

The feeling of lethargy was becoming too much, and he felt his eyes start to roll back into his head every time he took a short, gasping breath. This was either extreme sleepiness, passing out, or dying.

He wished he'd paid attention in Health class so he could tell the difference.

So he didn't know whether to be angry or grateful when a loud scuffling noise came from outside the cave. It certainly kept him from dozing, but then he laughed dryly at the only idea his tired mind could conjure up. It had to be Skulker, returning to his abode just in time to watch the Ghost Boy as he slowly died, shriveled up and helpless, next to his crying and frighteningly mortal best friends.

What a hoot that would be.

The noises were very faint, and he could no longer see through the combination of thick air and his watery and exhausted eyes. It didn't matter. Whatever it was couldn't save him. Not anymore. He thought about Clockwork and his new life's goal just to defy the ghost's predictions, and he cursed himself for knowing he couldn't. He could barely muster up the strength to force his lungs to haul in air. When you have to think very hard about breathing, you know you're in a bit of trouble.

Laughing from who knows what, but still feeling that sting of rebellion in him, he tried to force his body to move, and he managed to prop himself up on his hands and knees, crawling painstakingly slowly to a corner of the shield. Perhaps if he assigned himself a task, he could stay awake. Stay alive. Just crawl around for the rest of his pitiful existence; he was sure Skulker would get a kick out of this. The Ghost Boy reduced to a dog-like specimen, panting in the heat as he reached the corner.

But it had all been too much for him, and he collapsed weakly until he felt a strange stirring in his stomach which made him prop himself up on all fours again. Without really knowing what was going on, he retched in the corner; heat, exhaustion, worry, fear and helplessness all expended in one bout of nausea. He opened his eyes and could only see the world as a swirling mass in front of him. His thoughts were not comprehensible. He was losing it. Lightheaded. Drained. Sweating.

This was definitely dying.

He still couldn't help but laugh, though. What else could he do in this situation? But a small, barking part of the back of his mind was begging him to crawl back to his friends. What if they needed him? What if they died? What if he died? They shouldn't be alone.

He managed, with tremendous effort to crawl over to Sam and Tucker, positioning himself in between them and lying heavily on his back, not taking the effort to position his limbs in any comfortable arrangement. However he landed would be fine. It wasn't like Skulker was going to take a picture of this moment.

…Or maybe he would. Ew. Serious problems.

Still laughing, he snuggled into the ground, feeling the too-warm air wrap itself around him and attempt to engulf him in its grasp. But then—_curse them_—Sam and Tucker cried simultaneously, screaming from the heat, and he wanted to yell at them to shut up, to let him sleep, to let him die in peace.

Sam mumbled something about him, and he frowned, suddenly curious as to what her last thoughts about him were going to be, while Tucker muttered something about needing his ceiling fan turned on.

Hah, ceiling fan. Tucker was funny.

Funny. Fan.

Fan…

_FAN!_

Suddenly, from out of nowhere, an idea struck Danny which made his wild and bloodshot eyes grow wide. He was going to die anyway. Might as well give it a shot and go out a hero.

The sounds outside were getting louder, but he ignored them. Skulker could watch the show with Danny going down fighting. That was better than throwing up in the corner like a dog or lying in between his dying friends.

It took tremendous effort, but he made it to Tucker's backpack and threw his hand inside, scrambling randomly through Tucker's things until he hit it—the portable fan. For a dinky thing, it was pretty heavy…at least to Danny's weakened arms. But he was able to whip it out, and he smiled dumbly at it for a moment before effortlessly charging its batteries with his ghost powers.

It was fun using non-ice ghost powers.

After successfully turning it on, Danny grinned and crawled over to his friends, a sleepy and dopey smile on his face.

Hehe, he could be two of the seven dwarves.

Was everything funny when you were dying?

With great care, he placed the fan at his friends' feet, turning it on and feeling the gush of hot air rush out of it. He frowned, forgetting where he was going to go from there for just a moment, before Sam muttered something about ice.

Thank you.

Well…this was it. Death was imminent, but at least he could buy his friends some more time. Maybe Jazz would come and fight Skulker and she could rescue Sam and Tucker.

A long shot…but a shot nonetheless.

So, saying a metaphorical goodbye to his life, Danny summoned every scrap of energy he possessed—not even just his ghost energy, but _all _his energy—and with one last gasp, assembled a humungous snow-and-ice structure, placing it strategically before the fan so the cool air generated from it would be directed, at least partially, toward his friends.

With just one look of pride at his creation, Danny fell instantly to the ground, completely spent of all abilities other than breathing for the moment, and even that was becoming simply impossible. He could feel his blood literally boiling now, and his body screamed from the heat as his brain grew too hot and fuzzy for use regarding anything. Blood was dripping from his mouth, and all he could vaguely feel was the fan blowing the cool air from the structure to him and his friends. It was working. But it was too late for him.

For some reason, as he lay there looking up at the structure, he thought it looked loosely like Clockwork, which would have again made him laugh had he been able to. He thought of Clockwork's warning; at least he had tried. Now he could die a hero, or at least attempting to be one.

As he passed out, rings traveling up and down his body, leaving him totally vulnerable, human, and ready for death, he heard a loud thud. Again, he had the sudden urge to reprimand whoever was keeping him awake and stopping him from resting in peace (_hehe, more funny death thoughts_), but suddenly, a refreshing stream of air wafted towards him. Perhaps this wasn't someone keeping him alive…this was…_it._ He had finally reached the end.

_Goodbye, lovely little world. Tell Sam I'm sorry I couldn't keep my promise. I tried._

* * *

He would have been touched if he could have seen the tears shed on his behalf. If he could have seen the friends and family swarming over his body. The people who truly cared…

But he was passed out on a hospital bed for a week, so he missed it all.

Groaning, Danny raised a heavier-than-normal hand to his forehead and pushed, hoping the pressure would help restore his memory. Confused, he managed, with significant exertion, to turn his head to one side. He was greeted by the sight of Sam and Tucker, neither looking in his direction, but both appearing surprisingly perky and sitting up in what he assumed to be hospital beds. However, they seemed to look fairly well-off with the exception of a few burns. As he tried to articulate his perplexity and get their attention, he found that his voice was thick and crackly, and his mouth was intensely dry, so he was only able to squeak out a small, "hey." But everyone in the room responded, Sam and Tucker smiling broadly at him on one side, and Val, Jazz, Maddie and Jack on the other, beaming.

"Oh, my baby!" Maddie squealed, hugging Danny a little too tightly, as breathing was suddenly a chore. "You had us so scared there, sweetie! Jazz and Valerie went out there to find you, and while I'm still angry that your sister didn't come to us," she emphasized coldly, glaring at Jazz, "it's a good thing they got to you when they did. You'd passed out, and your pulse was so weak, and honey, you were burning up with such a terrible fever," he could see now that his mother was crying from worry…and had been for some time. "We—we didn't know if you were gonna make it through it."

She sniffled lightly, again gripping him in a tight embrace as though holding him would somehow root him to this world.

"You used too much of your ice powers, Danny," Jack explained. His dad seemed a little older, more mature for some reason, and Danny couldn't help but feel like he was the cause of that. "But by doing so, you saved Sam and Tucker's lives."

Knowing it was true, but still unable to believe it, he turned once more to his friends, who were only minutes ago (_days really, he supposed_) dying from the heat. They each grinned at him as though to confirm that he had truly done it—he had saved their lives. Smiling himself, Danny wanted to laugh once more. To scream. To cry. To do anything that would signify his relief that he actually had done the right thing…

_BAM!_

The world around him stopped, and he was only befuddled for a moment, recognizing what this was a symptom of.

"Clockwork," he said, almost darkly, as the apparition appeared in front of him.

The ghost merely nodded in acknowledgement.

"Guess I proved you wrong," Danny said, somehow still bitter at the advice the spirit had given him before.

"Well, while you're not completely in the clear yet, you've made it most of the way down that alleyway. Now you just need to cross the road," Clockwork smirked at him.

Ignoring the elder ghost's attempt to revive the metaphor, Danny continued to stare angrily. "I told you I could do it," he asserted quietly.

"I know," Clockwork conceded gently.

"I mean, I just knew I could get that .5%!"

"I know."

"Because once you told me it was almost impossible, I just had to prove you wrong."

"I know."

"And I did, and—wait," Danny abruptly broke from his hysterics when he noticed Clockwork grinning, amused and tranquil as ever.

Suddenly, it all started to click, and Danny's frustration was slowly evolving into understanding.

"You—you knew that was how I would react…didn't you?" he asked quietly.

Clockwork tilted his head slightly. "I knew that, if I told you the slim odds, you actually had a greater chance of making it out alive—all of you. Granted, your chances were never terrific, but the more I antagonized you, the more you wanted to rebel and to succeed. It's in your nature to be the hero, Danny. And you proved it."

Danny shook his head, in a vague sort of awe. "Wait…but wasn't that interfering? Won't the Observants be angry with you?"

Clockwork gave a cocky smirk. "No. They'll pretend it never happened, considering you've lived, thus saving millions of future lives…plus two or three."

With that, he winked, gesturing subtly toward Sam and Tucker, and Danny felt a deep sense of accomplishment and relief rush over him once more.

"I…" Danny started, but couldn't find proper words to convey how he felt. "Thanks, Clockwork. I don't—just, thanks."

Again, Clockwork's gaze held that mysterious and almost mischievous glint as he swirled his staff to create a portal back to his home.

"Any time," he answered before disappearing.

Danny was left with a small smile plastered dumbly on his face as he realized how grateful he should be to the Master of Time…and then he realized as time started ticking away once more that he had several other "thank you's" to deliver.

"Jazz," he started, looking up at her and noticing the perpetual worry in her eyes that had deepened by this whole experience. "I don't even know where to start. I'm sorry I left you out. I'm sorry I didn't listen to you. I'm sorry you had to go through all that for us, I just…thanks, Jazz. I wouldn't be here without you."

Always emotional, Jazz tried to speak past the lump in her throat and the tears of joy that clouded her vision and made her brother seem like an unreal, hazy apparition. "You don't have to be sorry, Danny. We all have our different roles to play, and if mine is to protect you…well, I'm okay with that. You're my little brother, Danny. I would never let anything bad happen to you. I'll always be there when you need me."

She wrapped him in a hug, slightly more sensitive than their mother had been to the fact that he had just been through a hellish nightmare, only breaking away long enough to look him sternly in the eye and say, "But don't you EVER scare me like that again."

They both laughed, and Danny finally returned the hug, their moment broken by a cough and a rough clearing of the throat to his left. Almost rolling his eyes, but knowing he shouldn't after all he owed her, Danny peeked over at Valerie.

"You, too, Valerie. If it wasn't for you, we wouldn't have had a snowball's chance in heck…or…a snowball's chance in that room, I suppose," he said nonchalantly, trying to make light of the situation already.

But Valerie understood the need for jokes in times of desperation. Sometimes she understood him better than anyone else, which was both strange and comforting.

"Yeah, well…I guess we make a pretty good team, Phantom. I wouldn't want to lose my greatest sidekick," she joked. But, then, she decided to forego the sarcasm, if only just this once, to make sure she got in what she needed to say in case another catastrophe like this eventually did claim his life—or hers—one day.

"And I couldn't imagine losing one of my best friends."

Danny looked at her strangely, with a mixture of gratitude and something deeper which neither of them could place, and said simply, "Yeah…me, neither."

Finally, unable to stand being held back any longer and seeing that Danny and Valerie had reached an understanding, Sam jumped from her bed (amidst Jack and Maddie's advice not to) and leapt up to hug Danny. And as he buried his face into her hair, trying his best not to cry from relief that she was all right, tangible, here, and so _alive_, she openly allowed tears to fall before whispering in his ear, "Thanks for not leaving me."

And, finally, Danny could hold back his joy no longer. He'd kept all his promises, and they'd all been able to make it out alive, together. And he cried for the first time since he'd woken up, holding Sam and looking over at Tucker, only to notice his best friend was choking back sobs as well. In standard dude code, they silently swore to each other never to mention this, and they nodded to each other to acknowledge that everything was all right.

"How're you doing, Tuck?" Danny asked finally as Sam pulled away, jumping off the bed and letting him catch his breath, as his began to settle down.

"I'm good, man. More than good, but…you know me and my vocabulary. Gonna fail that test with Lancer…whenever we take it, hah," he laughed wryly, forcing himself to add humor to stop from crying.

And Danny laughed, too, and they all laughed from the amazing feeling of contentment that had suddenly risen inside everyone. Danny could feel his strength returning, and the feeling that was now making his insides bubble was significantly more pleasant than his prior feelings of dread and boiling heat in the pit of his stomach. Sure, it would take time to recover from whatever effects the event had on them, and of course Skulker was in for it the next time he saw the ghost, but for now, he just couldn't have been more happy with anything in the world.

Breaking the string of nervous laughter, Tucker finally chimed in, witty as ever, "And that new ghost power of yours is definitely going to come in handy. You think you could just recharge my PDA whenever it dies, and I'll never have to buy new batteries again?"

Danny continued to laugh. "Sure, Tuck. Maybe sometime. But for now," he said as he nestled into the bed, flinging the covers off and letting the cool air remind him of his much more comfortable situation, "I think we need to just let things cool down for awhile."

And, as one, they all smiled and rolled their eyes.

THE END

* * *

**Doesn't it just sorta make you feel all warm and squishy? Here's where you tell me if it's a GOOD warm and squishy or a BAD warm and squishy…you know what I mean. Reviews are cherished, appreciated and most often replied to. Thanks for reading.**


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